


Bright Lights Blind (the running away now remix)

by Estirose



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:35:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26745241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Estirose/pseuds/Estirose
Summary: She's run so far, and is starting to figure out where to go.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2
Collections: Remix Revival 2020





	Bright Lights Blind (the running away now remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phantomlistener](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomlistener/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Changing History](https://archiveofourown.org/works/438262) by [phantomlistener](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomlistener/pseuds/phantomlistener). 



Tegan is running, just like the man in the suit and the trainers has told her to. 

It is starting to burn to breathe, but she can't stop. To run means safety, something that she should have learned long ago. It's reassuring to know that she can run, that she can get away from her life with the Doctor. Run until she's far away from any danger that he's caused, at least for the moment.

She hopes that she can be herself again, despite anything. Be the strong person she always has been and will feel like again.

He, in some ways, came back for her. Not to ask her to travel with her again, but to give her a warning to get out of danger. He obviously cares; he obviously has always cared. Even with their arguments he came back to tell her how to be safe. 

It's not what she expects now, or at least at this point in time, and everything she expects. Maybe this version of him is from a time where he remembers her with exasperated fondness, given his request that she not argue with him, just run, run, run until she's far away from... what had he said? Something nasty, for sure, something that had to do with what had happened in the warehouse. Something he remembered that he had to fix, and she was the one that needed to be helped this time.

It was funny how she didn't realize it right at that moment, but it was obvious as she was running away.

Sure, this could have been some truly random stranger, but how many people would have known her name, so uncommon, and known that she tended to argue so much? It was vaguely possible that he'd followed her from the warehouse, but she hadn't seen anybody, and besides, she didn't think so.

Besides, there was a softness in his eyes that reminded her of the Doctor but not quite. Softer than hers, anyway, no matter how much he had liked to pretend. It had stopped her from venting at him, screaming almost at what she'd been through and what she missed right now.

She realizes she is out of energy, and flops down onto the street. She's not even sure where she is. She isn't that familiar with London, and she'd run rather blindly.

There's nobody around, and she wonders if there's supposed to be. Things probably shouldn't be this way, she realizes.

Tegan wants to scream. She wants to cry. She has a slim hope that she got out of the range of the wave that's probably come from the warehouse. Maybe not, at the rate she feels like she's repeating herself, over and over. Maybe it's affecting her even now.

It will get better, he had said, and for some reason she trusts that, but maybe not right at the moment. There's been way too much death, too much destruction, and she's been a part of that as much as she'd like to deny it.

She refuses to let it just be the Doctor's fault. She realizes that she's just as upset at herself as she is at him. What had he said? He recognized her look - that of disillusion and betrayal. 

Tegan had told him that she didn't need any advice from strangers. So he'd provided advice as a friend. Because he felt she needed it.

Which didn't make her current situation much better. It really didn't change anything, other than she was exhausted and hopefully out of range. She wondered what would have happened if she hadn't run, if she'd stayed and hadn't listened to him.

Something told her that it wasn't anything good. His speech had been fast, compassionate, but there was something in there that told her that it was to push her to move, and when that had failed, he had spoken her name, like a friend.

Like someone he'd like to keep safe. Like someone he cares about still.

Something in her tells her that he cares at least enough to reach out a helping hand, however briefly, but still respected her independence. He expected her to follow his instructions, yes, but he didn't lead her anywhere. She chose to run because, well, she trusted him.

And now she has to gather that strength she knows she has, find her life again. It might be boring, but at least it won't be as deadly, she thinks. She should find something safer that can take advantage of her talents.

But what would that be? She'd always wanted to be an air hostess, but that meant danger too. It wasn't just serving drinks and food and extra pillows. It also meant knowing how to get people out of an airplane in the event of an unexpected landing and hoping that one could actually survive said landing. As much as she hated to admit it the kind of landing that required deploying slides was the kind of landing one didn't have a good chance of walking away from. 

As much as she loved travel and the skies, she wouldn't trade one risk for another. It didn't mean that she'd give up flying, but she would trade it for something that was on the ground most of the time.

As she sat, looking forlornly at the river, she decided she wanted to help. Help something. Help somewhere. Do what the Doctor tried to do - good things - but actually manage to do them. She drew a blank on what, but her somewhat still dazed mind told her that this could wait. She didn't have to come up with it right that moment.

She drew herself up, making a plan. Assuming she was close to her own time, she still had money. She could ask and see where she was. She could get somewhere, rest, recover. Then she could figure out what she was going to do with her life. She would go on. She would always go on.

Shaking a little still, she started walking once more.


End file.
